


play me like you mean it

by orphan_account



Series: notebook lines [1]
Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kuroha is worse than a problem student, and Shintaro wishes he'd memorised the register.</p>
            </blockquote>





	play me like you mean it

**Author's Note:**

> i... kind of didn't want to upload this until i'd written at least another chapter, but i'm caving in because i'm a very slow updater and i think any extra feedback might help as motivation.
> 
> revised and edited from tumblr as usual! i was prompted to do this and i got way too into the idea, heh.

He wore all black to work that day.

He didn’t usually. It was an unspoken rule of his, never to appear too formal. During school he’d worn his uniform loose, and university had been a haze of threadbare jeans and tracksuits, whatever looked least crumpled picked up off the floor each morning. He hadn’t even worn something smart to his job interview, turning up in a cardigan after spending an entire evening fretting over whether a suit would make him seem too keen, perhaps desperate. He’d wanted to show confidence, and he supposed it must have worked. He’d got the job.

For some reason, though, today had felt different. He already worked here now, so it wasn’t about making an impression. Nor was it for comfort- the tie had been bugging him ever since he put the damn thing on. It just seemed… right, somehow, like something new, someone different. Shintaro may have been a slob, Shintaro may not have shaved often enough or cleaned out his room more than once a month, but _Mr._   _Kisaragi_ wore a smart black suit and smart black shoes, worked in the town’s most prestigious school and kept all his filing in neat stacks under his desk. The thought was enough to put a lopsided grin on his face. He was  _so_ ready for this.  

Now here he was, adjusting his collar for what felt like the hundredth time that morning as he stared up at the gate. It wasn’t particularly old or grand, but it was imposing nonetheless, all grey steel and grey brick. Behind it was a short expanse of tarmac leading to the entrance and small, square windows lined the outside of the school all the way around. The entire front of the building screamed ‘hard work’.

He checked his watch. He was early even for a teacher; he had a full two hours before the students would start to arrive. Still, better to be early than late, and he figured he might need the extra time to make sure he knew his way around, maybe get a coffee and introduce himself to a few of his colleagues. The headmistress had been… intimidating… when he met her, but they couldn’t all be like that. Even at a place like this… he shrugged his shoulders. Rolled them back.

Yes. He was ready.

—-

The halls were quiet, as expected. There were a few cleaners hanging about, but aside from that the school was Falmost entirely silent, and truth be told it gave him the creeps. None of the lights in the classrooms had been turned on yet, and shadows played at his feet.

He entered the staff room and switched on the light, making his way immediately to the kettle. After a bit of searching, he found some instant coffee in a cupboard over the sink, and he hummed to himself as he poured out a cup and waited for it to cool, looking around at the various displays and noticeboards hanging from the walls. This school really had everything- ‘staff needed to help with Flamenco Club’? A pending request for a student to set up a group specifically discussing Russian literature? There was even a waiting list of applicants for a horse riding club, and they’d apparently had to staple an extra piece of paper on the end to fit all the names. He didn’t know whether he found this impressive or absurd. At  _his_  school the most exotic club had been one for Ancient Greek, and it had only had five members at the time.

He was so absorbed in reading the boards that he didn’t notice the person in the doorway right away. He didn’t even realise how uneasy he was beginning to feel until a moment after the figure moved, and a second later he jumped, spilling a few drops of coffee over his hands.

“ _Ouch_ -!”

Even as his heart skipped, he was already processing that it was just a person, and he set down his cup, breathing a little sigh of relief. The boy in the doorway smiled at him.

"Sorry, sir. Did I frighten you?"

His voice was soft and low, and while it didn’t quite  _conflict_  with his appearance, something about his whole manner sat rather oddly in Shintaro’s vision. Incredibly tall, with dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and limbs so long and thin that he reminded Shintaro a bit of a spider. Somehow, though, he looked very plain. What stood out most were his eyes- bright yellow, with a touch of gold around the pupils. What kind of person wore coloured contacts to school? Shintaro coughed, wondering if he should smile back.

"Erm, no, it’s alright. What can I help you with?"

The boy took a while to answer, tilting his head and relaxing his posture slightly so he filled most of the doorway. His nails were painted, Shintaro realised, and very long. Black, like his uniform. Should he tell him off? He was fairly sure students weren’t allowed to have painted nails, but then again, he was also sure he’d run into far more severe violations of dress code during his time here. God knows he was bad enough when he was at school himself.  He chose to stay silent, but pointedly glanced at his watch. There. That should, at least, show that he didn’t have all day to wait around.

The boy smiled again, slowly, eyes following his and then lazily coming to rest back on his face. He licked his lips thoughtfully.

"Ah… nothing, much. I only noticed the open door. It’s usually locked at this time, and I was curious… I take it you’re the new teacher?" He paused, and when Shintaro nodded, continued: "I see. I heard your speciality was music."

It was… a little baffling, to be honest, that this kid was so keen to talk to him. Conversation seemed to leak out of his mouth so easily, water from a spring. Shintaro’s own words were oil by contrast- sluggish and unpleasant-sounding, even to him. He wondered if every student would be like this. Was this what came of a privileged upbringing?  Shintaro was undeniably good at writing, but  _talking_? That required an entirely different skillset. His training as a teacher hadn’t taught him how to talk to people face-to-face.

He responded that, yes, it was, and made his excuses. He had lesson plans to look over before the day began.

It was only later, as he looked up at the clock from an hour of last-minute fact-checking, that it occurred to him to wonder why the boy had been there so early. He must have been setting up for morning club activities. Shintaro shrugged, and brushed the thought away.

—-

So it came as quite a surprise when he walked into his classroom fourth period to find golden eyes boring into him from a desk near the back. The boy had stacked his books neatly on the edge of his table, but his paper was strewn across it like he owned the place. He was examining his nails, scratching dirt from under them with one thumb- how he could tell they were dirty, Shintaro had no idea. He gave him a nod as he settled at his desk, greeting the class with an apology for his slight lateness, and the boy nodded back, smiling a little.

The lesson was largely uneventful. This group of students was little different to the last, or the one before that; there was a class clown, a know-it-all, and a kid who kept falling asleep on her bag. They were a good class anyway. Smart. Some of the answers the kids came up with at this place were actually too interesting for the syllabus. Occasionally, as he gestured something with his hands or made a line on the board, his gaze swept over the boy he was now mentally calling ‘Spiderboy’, but Spiderboy was never doing anything unusual, the most interesting moment being when he waved away a fly.

He wrapped up with a quick test, making students answer equations at random, and dismissed them as fast as he could, conscious of the time. He was supposed to be taking a music lesson over lunch- he thought, briefly and wistfully, of the sandwich he’d brought with him, but swallowed his hunger as best he could. Things wouldn’t be like this every day.

He was so busy trying to distract himself with thoughts of tomorrow’s schedule that he didn’t notice for quite a while that he was being followed. He wondered with a flush of embarrassment if he’d left something behind, until he saw who it was, and stopped walking. Spiderboy again? For some reason, even as he smiled, his stomach churned. Must be hungry.

"Is something wrong, sir?" The boy asked, and once again, the softness of his voice was surprising. Shintaro shook his head.

"Oh, no. What is it, Spi- erm…?" God  _damn_  it, he knew he had read the kid’s name on the register earlier. In response he got a tilt of the head and a small, confused smile.

"Spi…?" Yeah, fuck, Shintaro was really embarrassed now- "I’m Kuroha. That’s what you’ll hear people call me, I’m sure." The smirk he received along with this sentence was somehow both subtle and  _obvious_   _as sin_ , reminding him, weirdly, of a tomcat, waving his newly groomed tail. It was in this exact moment that he decided Kuroha’s ponytail annoyed the hell out of him. He coughed, loud and hoarse.

"I’m not sure it’s professional to call you by a nickname, er, Kuroha…" Kuroha said absolutely nothing, and Shintaro felt another twinge of embarrassment. Oh, he must seem  _so_ uncool. “…That aside, I’ll repeat- what is it?”

 Kuroha gave him a funny look, considering. As if maybe  _Shintaro_ was the one acting weird (well, weirder than he knew he must be). It made him vaguely uncomfortable.

"Nothing at all. Maybe I should have spoken first, since we were going the same way?"

No, that wasn’t right. Shintaro should have. He was the teacher. How, how did he fail to notice someone leaving the classroom right behind him? How did he fail to spot him as they walked down the corridor, only a few steps apart? He must have been hungrier than he’d even realised. He fiddled with his cuffs.

"Sorry. I was in a hurry so I didn’t see you. I take it you’re going to the art department?" Based on the state of Kuroha’s clothes, it was a reasonable guess, but to his surprise he shook his head.

"Not this time, no. Actually… I was on my way to a music lesson." He grinned wide. "Care to lead the way?"


End file.
